Tea Time
It was a relatively quiet afternoon in the spacious and plush sun lounge of the Third Moon’s MoonTower. Queen Selene was comfortably settled into one of the recliners, reading over the most recent political report of one of the Dark Moon’s governors while she waited for afternoon tea to be served. Luna hadn’t arrived yet, but she knew that she would turn up sooner or later. Selene’s young son, Prince Silvian, was also in the room, coloring on a sketch pad on the floor beside her chair. Although he had a nanny and caretaker, Selene had her do the tidying of the boy’s quarters in the afternoons so she could spend time with him.
She glanced up when she heard someone enter, thinking that perhaps her Aunt Luna had finally arrived, but it wasn’t Luna that walked in. Instead it was Chilla with her and Alluro’s daughter Erissa with her in tow. The Queen glanced up at the pair and smiled. “Hello,” she greeted them brightly.
“Hi,” Chilla answered. “Can I leave Erissa in here with Silvian and you? I can’t find Riala and I have things to do,” she said, referring to the elderly half-graviton, half lunar nanny that was caretaker of both children.
“Certainly,” Selene replied. The little girl heard the Queen’s affirmative and darted over to sit beside the other child. One of the servants then came in long enough to set a pot of tea on the end table between Selene and the empty chair that was normally reserved for Luna. Tea in the afternoon was a fairly longstanding tradition among the nobles of the Third Moon, although the original concept of it was borrowed from another culture many generations back. Luna and Selene were the only ones who ever observed it, however, and occasionally Frostor when he had something important to discuss with the two of them, although he usually insisted on iced tea. Spiked, if Luna was in a mood.
Chilla was on her way back out when Alluro, Psiarik, and Vultureman walked in. The Mutant was attempting to explain a new weapon design he had come up with to the pair. Psiarik seemed interested, while Alluro seemed more convinced that it would merely be another unintentional explosive. They were debating where on the grounds it might be safe to test it when they entered. Seeing Selene, Chilla, and the children there came as a surprise, as the sun lounge was generally a convenient place for a lengthy discussion. Frowning, Alluro glanced at the timepiece on the wall. “Oh, it’s Luna’s tea time, isn’t it?” he said with a sigh. He glanced curiously at Chilla. “Don’t tell me you’re here for that?”
The icewalker glared at him. “No.”
“I saw, or rather, heard her with Frostor a couple of hours ago,” Psiarik volunteered. “They were in the library arguing.”
“What else is new?” Vultureman squawked, rolling his eyes.
As if on cue, two voices could be heard coming from down the hallway. The shrill tone one of them had could only belong to one Lunatac. “You’ve already ruined my morning, I’ll be damned if you’ll ruin my afternoon tea as well,” they heard her screech as she rounded the corner upon Amok as always, an irate Frostor behind them.
“I ruined it? I wasn’t the one sitting there refusing to listen to reason,” the general retorted.
Luna narrowed her eyes when she saw the crowd gathered in the room. “And to what honor do we owe the unexpected pleasure of this crowd today?”
“Coincidence, I assure you Luna,” Alluro replied. While he respected the fact that Selene enjoyed Luna’s company and had long since come to terms with the fact that he still had to live under the same roof as his ex-leader, it did not mean that he went out of his way to spend time with her socially.
Frostor turned to Selene. “I don’t suppose you have any iced tea in there, do you?”
“Not today, no. I could have some brought if you’d like,” she offered.
The Governor General strode over to the lounge’s liquor cabinet instead and pulled out a crystal glass and some Plundarrian whiskey. “No, on second thought this will do just fine. Certain individuals can drive one to drink, I’ve discovered.” He downed the first swallow quickly for emphasis.
Luna scowled at him from behind her glasses. “Don’t take that tone with me, you blowhard,” she snapped as Amok lowered her into her seat. She reached and poured herself a steaming cup of tea, and then handed a sugar-coated crumpet to Amok. The brute didn’t drink tea—his huge hands would likely break the expensive china it was served in—but he did like the sweet pastries served with them. He gobbled it hungrily and beamed at Luna.
“Blowhard?” Frostor repeated incredulously, hissing a blast of ice onto the carpet in anger. “If there’s someone in this room full of hot air, Luna, it’s not me.”
“Would this be a safe time to ask what’s going on?” Psiarik interrupted.
Chilla sighed. “I doubt it.”
Luna glared at Frostor and set her teacup down on the saucer. “It’s rude of you to talk about Alluro that way.”
That little barb set the hypnotist off. “Excuse me?” he huffed indignantly, glaring at the woman he referred to when Selene wasn’t around as “The Troll”.
“All right, enough!” Selene interrupted, and cast a pointed look at Luna. “Would any of you like some tea?”
Erissa, who had been quiet while the arguing had been going on, glanced up at Selene. “Can I have a cookie?” Silvian also peered up hopefully next to the elder child. Selene glanced over toward Alluro and Chilla.
“She can have some,” Alluro said with a dismissive wave.
Chilla narrowed her eyes. “If she gets a sugar high, you can watch her,” the icewalker hissed to Alluro under her breath.
“Oh I think quality tea time with Auntie Luna would be better, especially after cookies and ice cream.”
At the mention of the frozen treat, both children grinned eagerly. “We get ice cream too?”
“With whipped cream and candyfruit sauce,” he added with a smirk. Before anyone could interrupt him, he called in the order the kitchen staff over the intercom. Sure, it was sneaky, but a little junk food certainly wouldn’t harm the children and would most certainly delight them, and any sugar-induced hyperactivity would certainly irritate The Troll. Immediately Alluro was the children’s hero, and they ran eagerly as their sundaes were brought up.
Luna glared at Alluro. “You’ll pay for that.”
“We’ve been paying for years,” Chilla muttered.
“Can we please stop squabbling?” Selene asked irritably, setting her tea down.
Silvian carried his ice cream over to his mother and sat down next to her. He could hear that she was angry but did not understand why. He looked at her with innocent wide eyes and asked, “Mommy do you need a huggie?”
The Queen smiled and reached to pick her young son up. “Mommy would love a huggie.”
Luna just blinked, and verbally echoed the thought that pretty much passed through everyone else’s mind but had better taste than to say it. “Huggie?” she repeated incredulously. Selene just smiled back at her and shrugged as her son gave her a bear hug. Luna shook her head. “I’m related to someone who uses the word ‘huggie’,” she said in disbelief. She caught sight of Frostor, who like the others was more than a bit amused by the situation, grinning, and glared at him. “You taught her that, didn’t you?”
The general laughed despite himself and set his empty glass down. “No, I assure you, Luna, I have never ‘huggied’ the Queen, or anyone else for that matter.”
“I think Luna’s just bitter that no one wants to ‘huggie’ her,” Alluro sneered.
Amok sat up and grabbed Luna. “Amok huggie!” the brute exclaimed, circling his powerful arms around the tiny lunar woman affectionately.
That served only to annoy Luna further. “Amok, put me down this instant!” Confused, Amok sat her back in her chair. Luna glared at Frostor. “Now you’ve got Amok saying it!”
Selene giggled. “Aunt Luna, you’re too hard on poor Frostor. I didn’t hear it from him.”
“Who, then?” Vultureman questioned.
“Well,” Selene hedged, glancing at Psiarik, whose smile quickly faded to a look of embarrassed guilt that he was failing miserably at hiding.
Although Selene hadn’t said as much, everyone else in the room guessed it anyway and eyed him with the same amusement they’d been watching Luna with earlier. His purple skin flushed a dark maroon.
Luna glanced from Psiarik to Alluro. “So, are ‘huggies’ genetic?”
“No,” Alluro retorted, boggling at both his son and The Troll. Much like Luna, he too could not wrap his mind around a family member of his using the word with a straight face. He quickly convinced himself that something so silly could only have come from his mother.
“Are you sure?” Luna pressed. “Surely Chilla would enjoy a huggie from you.”
Chilla glared at Luna. “Shut up and drink your tea, Luna.”
Frostor meanwhile eyed Psiarik curiously. “Huggies?”
“It’s just a pet name kind of thing,” he muttered, glancing enviously at the door.
“I think it’s sweet,” Selene offered brightly, smiling at him.
“It’s something,” Vultureman snorted with an amused caw.
Amok stood up and reached for Luna again. “Huggie!” he repeated enthusiastically.
“I said ‘no’ you stupid brute!” the lunar woman squealed as Amok grabbed her.
“Huggie,” Amok said happily, and ruffled Luna’s purple and white hair.
“Augh! No huggies, damn you!” Luna struggled futilely in her steed’s grasp, her tiny feet kicking up a storm and her small hands balled into tight fists that pounded with all their not-so-mighty might against his arm. If Amok noticed, he didn’t show it, and only held her tighter, smiling widely.
The sight of Luna being “huggied” against her will proved too much for her fellow Lunatacs and all of them, Selene included, burst out laughing. That served only to raise Luna’s ire and volume further.
Regaining his composure, Frostor swirled the contents of his second whiskey glass around and watched Luna with great amusement. “He’s just being affectionate, Luna. Maybe you did need a huggie after all.”
The furious Luna let out an unintelligible shriek. “I’ll give you a huggie!” With that she threw her riding crop at the smug ice Lunatac. He ducked, and it landed squarely in his drink instead.
Frowning, he plucked the crop from the alcohol and set the glass down on the cabinet. “No, Luna, I don’t think I want to be that lucky,” he snorted, and made a hasty exit toward the archway, twirling her riding crop. “By the way, thanks for the present. I’ll take that as an apology.” With that, he was gone amidst a stream of shrill curses.
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